


Moving Mountains

by oldenuf2nb



Series: If Wishes Were Children [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied Mpreg, M/M, Politician Harry Potter, Wizengamot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-25
Updated: 2009-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 07:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16719100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldenuf2nb/pseuds/oldenuf2nb
Summary: Harry never wanted to be a politician, but some things are worth fighting for.





	Moving Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s notes: For my beloved sassy_cissa , a continuation of the story that brought us together to begin with. Merry Christmas, my love. It’s not a ‘Christmasy tale’, but hopefully it leaves you with the same warm feeling.

The crowd seated at the round banquet tables was finishing their dinner. Cutlery clinked on plates, soft conversation buzzed in the room. When a man finally stood and walked to the podium, it took him a couple of moments to silence the crowd. When chairs had turned and the faces in the room were looking his way, he smiled.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, politicians smile firmly in place. “And welcome to our dinner celebrating the passage of ‘Jonah’s Amendment’, the landmark legislation that provides for equal treatment under the law…”

He went on, and Harry turned to his partner, rolling his eyes slightly. Jamie sat beside him, politely eating his cheesecake, and Cissa dozed against Draco’s shoulder, her thumb in her mouth. It really was too late for the children to still be up; Jamie was fine, but Harry knew that they were skating on thin ice with two-year-old Cissa; if she ever really woke up, she’d either be cranky as all get out or wound up like Mrs. Weasley’s clock. He reached over and gently rubbed circles on her back through her very pretty green velvet party dress; she looked so sweet with her dark curls, her long lashes black fans on her ivory cheeks. It seemed unfair somehow, that both of their children had inherited his dark hair. He’d thought it would be lovely to have at least one child with blond curls. She looked at him, smiling around her thumb, then her grey eyes drifted closed again. At least they both had Draco’s eyes.

“…and so, without further ado,”

Harry heard Draco snort softly, and he shot him an understanding smile.

“…I would like to introduce the man who is mostly responsible for the passage of this law. He’s the youngest Chancelor in the history of the wizengamot, the leader of the progressive movement, and as far as I’m concerned, the next Minister For Magic…”

Harry grimaced. “I told him not to say that, damnit,” he muttered under his breath. Draco just raised his brows sardonically.

“Representative Harry Potter!”

The applause was thunderous as Harry pushed back his chair and stood, and he felt hundreds of eyes on him as he made his way to the podium. He hated giving speeches, hated the glare of the publicity. Hated even more that at these things he and Draco were under constant scrutiny. And ordinarily, he’d have never brought the children, ever. But this was different; this was important. Important that they be seen, and that they understand what was going on. And so he sent his son, who was grinning widely and applauding enthusiastically, an encouraging grin, and mounted the stairs to the lectern. Flashbulbs exploded in front of him as he shook the first speaker’s hand, and he stood for several minutes, pulling his notes from the pocket of his formal robes and waiting for the applause to abate. When it had quieted finally, he cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Representative Henry,” he said. “And thank you to all of you. It’s not often that we can fill a room this size with little of more interest than rubber chicken and a bunch of politicians.” Polite laughter met his words. “And in regards to that whole ‘next Minister’ thing,” he shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think Kingsley is doing just fine, and frankly, you couldn’t pay me.” There were groans and boo’s, but they were good-natured. Harry smiled slightly. “Being Minister for Magic has never been my goal. But then, being in politics was never my goal.” He looked around the room. “I ran for office because I felt like I had to. I’m here tonight, and worked these last months on Jonah’s Amendment, for the same reason.”

A respectful silence had settled on the room. “Jonah’s Amendment,” he went on solemnly, “is named for Jonah Nott, the four-year-old son of Theodore Nott, who died of complications from pneumonia because the Mediwizards at St. Mungo’s were bound by law not to treat him. You might ask yourself what Jonah’s crime was, what made him untreatable, and I’ll tell you; Jonah had done nothing. During the second war with Voldemort, his father was on the wrong side, and bears the dark mark on his left arm. Because of this, Jonah’s illness, which was completely curable, was left of untreated. Because of a law enacted immediately following the war, one that had nothing whatsoever to do with a child who hadn’t even been born yet, Death Eaters and their families could not be provided with medical treatment. Because of this law, drafted by former Representative Dolores Umbridge and championed by the conservative wing, Jonah Nott died, choking to death in his father’s arms.”

There was an uncomfortable stirring and muttering in the room, and Harry waited. “So, you might ask yourself what my interest is in this. I am not a friend of Theodore Nott’s, nor have I ever had any political aspirations. In fact, if the issue hadn’t made an impact in my own life, I might never have done anything about this at all. But it did.” He paused, looking right at Draco. “It did, because of who I fell in love with.”

Draco’s lips lifted at the corners encouragingly, and he nodded faintly. Harry acknowledged it with a dip of his chin.

“I know that my personal story has received a lot of press, but for those of you who might have been living in a cave for the last ten years,” there was scattered laughter, “my partner is a former Death Eater. Forced to make the choice between the lives of his family and serving Voldemort, he took the Dark Mark when he was sixteen, scarcely an age where one should be making decisions that might change the course of their life.” He paused, swallowing. “None of us were left with many choices in those times, myself included. My course was chosen for me as surely as Draco’s was chosen for him; we were all pawns in the larger chess game.”

There were once again murmurs, and Harry waited. “Draco and I were on opposite sides during much of the war, but in spite of that, we fell in love. I know that some don’t approve; I won’t respond to that. And through some old magic enacted by his family hundreds of years ago, Draco was able to become pregnant and carry our children.” There was another outbreak of murmuring, and Harry waited. “I know that this is difficult if not impossible for some people to accept. I know that some are frankly insulted and disgusted by the idea; again, I won’t respond to that. I can only tell you that, to me it was, and remains, a miracle. Magic gave me what I thought was impossible; a family with the man I love. But it was a miracle that almost ended in tragedy when he was refused medical treatment because of the mark on his arm.”

He paused again, running his hand through his hair. “Of course, as I’ve been known to do, I sort of took things into my own hands and rather famously redecorated the emergency room at St. Mungo’s.” Again, there was scattered laughter. “It’s only due to my… notoriety that I got away with it rather than being chucked into Azkaban. Our Jamie was delivered, and Draco was saved.” He stopped, his brow furrowing. “Jonah Nott wasn’t so fortunate. He was turned away, and as a result, he died. Because of a law that never should have been enacted to begin with, a child died.”

He lifted his head and looked around the room. “This could have been my child,” he went on. “It chills me to the bone to know how very nearly it was. All because of a prejudice that I had hoped ended when the war did. There are always two sides in any conflict, and the winners make the rules. But it does not necessarily follow that the people on the losing side must be treated with cruelty. To deny a child treatment is cruelty; to deny any among us who are ill medical treatment is cruelty. It is wrong, and hopefully, ‘Jonah’s Amendment can rectify that. We still have a long way to go to reverse the damage that the punitive laws enacted immediately following the war have done, but this is a first step.”

“Da! Da, Da, Da…”

Harry stopped, lifting his head and saw that Cissa was now awake, and struggling in Draco’s arms. Apparently his voice had roused her, and she wanted him. Draco was speaking to her softly, but Harry could see her back bowing and her face turning red.

“It’s all right,” he said, and Draco looked over at him. “Let her come.”

Draco didn’t look as if he thought it was a wonderful plan, but he leaned over and put her on the floor, and Cissa made a bee-line for Harry, climbing up the stairs on her hands and knees, then pushing herself up and waddling to him, her chubby arms outstretched. He caught her up and placed her on his hip, and she bracketed his face with her small hands and smiled. “Da!” she said brightly, turning to lay her head on his shoulder, patting his cheek with her hand. There was another murmur through the crowd, and this one sounded suspiciously like a mass ‘awww’. Harry grimaced.

“This young lady and I will be having a conversation about appropriate banquet behavior after she’s had a bottle and a good night’s sleep, but in a way, she illustrates a point.” He turned slightly so that they could all see her face. “This is the child of a former Death Eater. Her life, and the lives of others just like her, are what we are risking by clinging to the old prejudices. We’ve made a start with ‘Jonah’s Amendment, but just a start. We still have a long way to go, and I hope that you’ll all be there with me to continue the fight. Thank you.”

He stepped down off of the podium to another extended round of thunderous applause, and he made directly for his family.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, bending over and speaking into Draco’s ear even as the applause went on and on.

“What, don’t want to shake hands and kiss a few babies?” Draco said wryly.

“Only my babies,” Harry said, and Draco nodded, standing and taking Jamie’s hand, and they left the hall, ignoring the outstretched hands held in their direction. They Apparated once they were outside, Harry with Cissa, Draco holding Jamie.

Once they were home, Harry gestured up the stairs with his head, and Draco nodded as Harry took Cissa to the nursery. He changed the once again sleepy toddler into her jammies, then held her in the rocking chair as she drank about a third of a bottle, her eyes finally falling completely shut and her little body warm and limp in his arms. He laid her in her crib and tucked a comforter around her, leaning over and murmuring ‘good night, princess’ against her cheek before kissing her softly. Lowering the lights with a wave of his hand, he stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door nearly closed but leaving it open a few inches. When he turned, he was surprised to see his son standing there, already in his pyjamas, clearly waiting for him.

“Jamie?” he said softly, looking into the wide eyes. “Did you want something?”

Jamie looked up at him, then walked forward and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, squeezing him hard. Harry laid his hand on the dark head, looking over to see Draco standing in their bedroom doorway, watching them pensively.

Harry disentangled his son’s arms from around his waist and leaned over to look into his face. “What is it, son?” he asked the nine-year-old. Jamie studied his face.

“The little boy, the one who died…” He searched Harry’s eyes. “That could have been me, huh?”

Harry knelt in front of him. “No,” he said emphatically. “It could never have been you. Ever.”

“Because you’re my dad, right?”

Harry paused, then nodded. “Yes. And I’d never let anything happen to you, or your Daddy, or Cissa. Ever.”

“But those other kids, the one’s who don’t have Harry Potter for a dad…”

“That’s why it was important to get this law passed, Jamie. So that no other kids die.”

The boy nodded solemnly. He leaned forward then, speaking directly into Harry’s ear. “I promise not to complain about how much you work anymore he whispered. “And I’m glad that you’re my dad,”.

“So am I, sweetheart,” he said, pulling the little boy into a hug. “So am I.” He rubbed the slender back for a moment. “It’s late. You need to go to bed.”

Jamie nodded, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek before he walked over and hugged and kissed Draco. He sent Harry one last look before he went into his bedroom and closed the door.

Harry stood up, running his hand through his hair. “Maybe he was too young for this…”

“No,” Draco said with quiet emphasis. “He needs to understand, and now I think he does.”

Harry walked to him, stopping in front of his partner, leaning forward to lay his forehead on Draco’s shoulder. Draco reached around him and rubbed his back.

“I’m tired,” he murmured, leaning into Draco’s heat and strength. For all that he was slender and lithe, he was stronger than anyone knew.

“It’s hard business, being you,” he said gently. “No one has any idea how hard.”

“Except you,” Harry muttered, turning his head, nuzzling Draco’s throat. “You’re always there to hold me up.”

Draco’s hands were soothing as they moved over his spine. “And I always will be. You move the mountains, Potter,” he pressed a kiss to his hard cheek, a hand coming up to card through his hair, “and I’ll tuck you in when you’re done.”

Harry sighed into his throat. That sounded like a good deal to him.


End file.
